A Quell to remember
by Sunlance
Summary: AU. They never won the rebellion and Katniss is forced to mentor the District 12 Tributes alone. Now, the 4th Quarter Quell is here and Snow wants the rebels to suffer. Unfortunately for Gale, that means sending in his eldest daughter Alyssa. Can she win?
1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Firstly, May the Odds be Ever in Your Favour! Secondly, I can't wait for the movie. Anyways, back to the point. My friends convinced me to write a Hunger Games story. I didn't really know where to start, other than I'd want it to have an actual Hunger Games and for it to be during a Quarter Quell. So then I decided (since I love what if stories) what if they never won the rebellion? I hope I can make this unique to all the other 'they lost the rebellion' HG stories. If not, I hope you still enjoy it!**

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><p><em>Chapter 1: Something Wicked This Way Comes<br>_

_Alyssa_

I wake up to see my dad nudging me gently, a sad smile on his face. At first I'm slightly confused, mainly due to me not being awake fully, but it soon dawns on me.

_The reaping_. I sigh, sit up slowly and shield my face from the sun shining through my window. "Ugh," I moan tiredly. "Can't I just sleep the day away?"

He laughs a little, but there's no joy in it. "Come on, sleepy head, or the peacekeepers will have to drag you out."

I look up at him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. There's a small grin forming on my face. "Like last reaping?" I ask innocently. He laughs again and he seems to have lightened up.

"Let's not have a repeat of last year. Snow hates me as it is, and with it being a Quarter Quell this year-"

"Stop worrying. I'm one in a thousand, dad; I doubt I'll get picked, even if Snow hates you." He stares down at me, concern clear in his eyes. He leans his forehead against mine and squeezes his eyes shut.

"I just want to keep you safe," he whispers.

I close my eyes too and for a moment the room is silent. "I know…" I mumble back.

He told me what happened during the second rebellion. How he's lucky to be alive. My brother and sister are too young to understand, they're only 9. He only told me 4 years ago when I was old enough to be placed in the reaping. I can't imagine what he had to go through.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when he kisses me on the forehead. After that he ruffles my black hair gently. I swat his hand away before he has the chance mess it up.

I can see his reluctance to leave me, like I'll be dragged away by peacekeepers at any minute. "I'll be fine," I say with a reassuring smile. He stands in the doorway for a few more minutes, before finally walking out my room.

I'm just about to collapse in my bed again when banging is heard from the front door. _Oh no_, I think as I leap out of my bed. _I can't be that late!_

I rush down the stairs, jumping the last few steps and land just in front of the door. "I'll get it!" I call to no one in particular and I fling the door open.

"I see you're rushing it this morning?" the visitor asks. She places a hand on my head and ruffles my hair. My annoyance must show, because she only laughs at me as I try to pat down my hair.

"Katniss! I've only just sorted this out!" I lie, though I know I'm not fooling her.

"Of course you have," she states before walking past me and meeting my dad in the hallway. "Hey Gale," She says.

He smiles and replies with "Hey Katniss." I take that as my cue to leave.

"So, I'll just be, err, going… This way!" I point towards the kitchen and rush off, embarrassed by my stuttering, only to run into my mum. "Shi- Hi mum!" I smile sweetly at her.

She just shakes her head and tells me to 'be more careful'.

"I will, mum. Promise," I say.

"By the way, who was at the door?" She calls to me. I stop in the kitchen doorway.

"Just Katniss," I reply. She nods and quickly walks into the other room. _Weird_, I think. _That's the first time mums ever blanked me…_

I shrug it off as I pour myself a drink. _I know they have every right to be freaked out about today, but is there really any need to worry?_ I take a big sip from my drink, tapping my fingers on the counter.

_I mean, wouldn't I have been picked by now? Why wait when you could just punish him straight away? That's a pretty lame idea. _I sigh before downing the rest of the drink. Every reaping I end up thinking this through in my head and in the end I never come up with an answer.

_This bites, _I continue as I rest my head on the counter. _Stupid reapings!_

**XOXOXOX**

_Gale_

"You're worried too?" I ask as Katniss sits down in the seat opposite me. She runs a hand through her hair and sighs.

"Of course I am Gale. I know Snow, and this quarter quell is the perfect opportunity to remind us of our failed attempt at rebelling." We look down at the floor. Neither of us wants to relive those memories.

"You're worried she'll get picked, aren't you?" A voice calls from the doorway. I lift my head up to see my beautiful wife stood at the door. She moves to sit next to me, placing her hand on top of mine to try and comfort me.

"Cynthia…" I say softly. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer.

"There's a chance," Katniss says slowly to make sure we're paying attention. "Snow might rig the reaping so that she's picked. It's highly doubtful, but we're more concerned about what will happen if she is picked."

"Not to mention we have no idea what this Quarter Quell will be," I add.

"Why haven't they announced it yet?" Cynthia asks. "Normally, they announce it before the reaping, right?" The room is silent as her question hangs in the air. _Why didn't I think about that before? What is Snow planning?"_

"They don't want us to be prepared for what they have in store…" Katniss states, breaking the silence. "I mean, they want to make sure they're still in control of the situation. If any of the districts knew, then they could easily prepare ahead of time."

"It makes sense, but it still seems pointless." I look at Cynthia, hugging her tighter.

"Well, maybe not," I say. "The longer they postpone revealing the new Quarter Quell, the more anxious the districts get. We can't forget that it's only been 25 years after the rebellion, so we all know it'll be something big."

There's another disturbing silence that lasts for a few seconds before a distant crash signals the end of our conversation.

"What the hell was that for?" Alyssa shouts from a different room in the house. Seconds later the twins run past the door, giggling and pulling faces at the person who is probably hot on their heels. Luckily, Katniss is one step ahead of me and heads to the door.

"Easy there," She says as she grabs Alyssa around the waist. But that does little to stop her from putting up a fight.

"Let me go!" She cries, flailing her arms and legs about trying to escape. Katniss only drags her into the room and closes the door.

"Perhaps it's best if you sit down for a little?" she says and Alyssa calms down slightly. Katniss eventually lets go, but only when she's sure Alyssa won't make a run for it. Cynthia and I just sit and watch.

"Do you want to tell her?" Katniss asks as Alyssa makes herself comfy on one of the chairs.

"Tell me what?" Alyssa asks, suddenly interested in our conversation.

"Nothing's definite," I say, but that's all I can get out before the television bursts into life and the Capitol insignia flashes onto the screen. We all wait in silence, knowing that this event is to announce the Quarter Quell.

**XOXOXOX**

_Alyssa_

"Greetings citizens and happy Hunger Games! As you all know, today is the day of the reaping. Firstly, I want to wish you all good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour!" He smiles at the camera, and I start to feel sick. I want to turn it off, or throw something at the screen, but at the same time I can't tear my eyes away.

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. The 4th Quarter Quell!" The room is silent and everyone is tense. I can practically feel the hatred radiating from my parents and Katniss. For once, I'm glad that my brother and sister aren't here.

We watch as they bring out the small box that contains the rules for each Quarter Quell. It seems like an eternity before they actually reach President Snow, and the wait is agonising.

Snow opens up the small box and carefully picks out one of the cards. Suddenly it's as if the entire world is silent and waiting. _This is what he wants_, I think. _He wants us to be restless. _Slowly, he unfolds the card, smiling at the words written on the paper.

"Each tribute will be paired with a tribute from another district and will fight alongside each other during the entirety of the Games. Happy Hunger Games" He smiles and then his faces flashes off the screen. The Capitol insignia returns and all that can be heard in the room is the static of the television.

"What was that about?" I ask, wondering about the significance of this Quarter Quell. All the tributes will be too young to understand, but I know that those from the rebellion will have gotten the message.

"He wants us to know that even though the districts can team up, they can never win against the Capitol," my dad says. I notice his clenched fists and realize just how badly this will affect everyone who rebelled.

But as I see my dad staring at Katniss with concern, I can't help but think of a deeper meaning. Katniss turns to Gale and nods slightly, but even I can tell she's not okay.

"What else does it mean?" I ask. They all look at me, and then my parents turn their attention to Katniss. An unspoken conversation is had between them before Katniss sighs and turns to face me.

"It's a message to all the rebels. 'This is how your precious rebellion started, with two people making it out of the arena alive. Now, this is how your rebellion will end'. No doubt that the last pair standing will be forced to kill their partner, if they still have a partner left."

I stand speechless for a second. My dad puts a hand on my shoulder and I lift my head up to look him in the eye. "Everything will be alright, I promise," he says.

I'm about to reply when the clock behind us chimes and I know that its time for the reaping. My mum hugs me tightly, and my dad ends up wrapping his arms around the both of us. After the embrace I whisper goodbye.

Katniss leads me out of the house, her arm around my shoulder all the way to the square. Everything will be alright, I repeat over and over again in my head. I'm just one in a thousand.

Katniss squeezes my arm before she starts to walk away. I grab her by the sleeve and pull her into a hug before she can protest. She pulls away, her Seam grey eyes starting to water.

"You know, don't you?" I whisper to her as the other children start to gather in the square. She stays silent and I can feel my heart racing.

She looks away, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Alyssa. I tried…" She turns and walks away, leaving me in the middle of the square. I look around me, seeing the scared faces and the crying girls and suddenly I feel like crying too. But I know I can't.

I soldier on and stand with the other girls who are sixteen years old. I search for familiar faces in the crowd, but even though I have plenty of friends I can't seem to pick a single one of them out.

And so for the first time in my life, I truly feel alone.

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><p><strong>Hope you like it guys :) If you have any questions, feel free to PM me! I will (hopefully) be putting up a prequel to the story, explaining what happened after the rebellion. In the mean time, Happy Hunger Games!<br>**


	2. United We Stand

__**And today is the day of the reaping, so may the odds be ever in your favour. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter guys!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 2: United we stand<span>_

_Alyssa_

The district 12 escort walks onto the stage, a giant smile ever present on her face. It's not the same escort Katniss had 25 years ago, she was apparently 'too old' to continue escorting tributes. Katniss and Gale always end up talking about the 'other reasons' she's not here anymore.

This new escort is always wearing over the top dresses and other Capitol clothes and the colours she wears are practically blinding. In the past, my friends and I would be stood laughing at her new ridiculous style before the reaping began. But this year, my friends are no where to be seen and I'm dreading the moment when she calls my name.

_Breathe, _I tell myself as it usually calms me down. I spot Katniss on the stage, sat on a chair near the back. She doesn't look my way. Not once.

The screens set at either side of the stage burst to life, the cameras focusing on our escort, Fleur Lovelace, as she prepares to announce this year's tributes.

"Welcome everyone! Happy Hunger Games and May the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts as strands of her light blue hair fall onto her face. "What an honour it is to be here!" She calls out, but I drown out her speech and think about what comes next. The thought makes me nauseous, so I decide to watch the clouds instead.

By the time Fleur has finished her speech, the majority of us are looking bored and uncomfortable. I begin to shift as well, impatience drowning out the worry I feel. _Let's just get this over with. I'm tired of waiting. _

She starts with the classical 'ladies first', something which most escorts do. Then, she walks to the glass ball filled with thousands of girls' names. In my head, I count the amount of slips I should have in there to make it seem like a normal reaping. But I know that the only name that glass ball contains is mine.

She grabs a slip of paper and makes her way back to center stage. I catch a glimpse of Katniss, to find her staring at me. I can barely make out the 'I'm sorry' that she mouths to me before Fleur reads out the name.

"Alyssa Hawthorne!" She calls. My heart skips a beat. I knew this was coming, yet I'm still shocked. _I was picked because of my dad_, I think as I take a shaky step forward. _I was picked because he was willing to fight_.

Slowly, the other girls around me make a path for me to walk along. I take another step, fighting the urge to run or be sick. It's then that I hear his cries from the back of the crowd.

I close my eyes, a new found resolve forcing me onwards to the stage. I ignore my dad who I know is racing through the crowd to get me. _But there's nothing you can do…_

I feel the small tug on my sleeve and it stays there for a second before it is forced away. It takes the four peacekeepers that were surrounding me to hold him back and another four come to escort me to the stage.

"Please, no! Not my girl! Not Alyssa!" He cries, fighting the peacekeepers with all his might. I stop and think of running back to him, but I sigh and continue on. I can't look weak, not in front of the cameras. Not in front of the whole of Panem.

So I walk to the stage, a journey which seems to take forever, and I don't look back until I'm up the stairs and standing with Fleur. It takes everything I have to force a smile onto my lips. To pretend I'm okay. To pretend I don't care. But he's still calling out for me, trying to reach me.

I muster up all the courage I can and force back the nauseous feeling rising in my stomach. "It's okay dad," I call to him and I can only hope that my voice doesn't sound weak. "I'll come back, I promise."

I'm given a small pat on the back by Fleur, who's smiling down at my show of courage like I actually mean it. I glance at Katniss, who can't bear to face me. She thinks it's her fault. I can tell by the look on her face that she believes I'm in this mess because of her.

My dad's stopped fighting the peacekeepers, but I can see the hurt in his eyes. For four years we've been fine. For four years my name hasn't been called out. We all thought I was safe, but now I'm being torn away from them.

I've ended up making a promise that's impossible to keep.

**XOXOXOX**

_Katniss_

I should've been prepared for this. Snow told me this would happen months ago, but I refused to listen. I denied his words and pretended that everything would be alright. I should've told Gale. I should've toldAlyssa. I should've done something.

I watch as Alyssa takes her place on the stage, as she tries to calm down her frantic father. I turn away when she tries t look at me. Maybe if I'd tried harder, she'd never be in this situation.

I look back up at the square, making sure I keep my eyes on Fleur and not the poor girl whose fate I've sealed. She makes her way to the other glass ball after congratulating Alyssa on her courage. She digs deep, and picks out one of the bottom slips before returning to stand next to Alyssa.

"Flynn Rosach!" She calls and boy who looks about 14 hesitantly steps forward. I don't know him; I don't think I've ever seen him around the district, but I know that face. It's the face that Prim made when she was picked for the reaping. A face as pale as a ghost, constantly haunting my dreams.

I shake my head. _No, I can't think about that, not now_.

When Flynn finally makes it up the stairs and to the center of the stage, he looks about ready to collapse. Fleur congratulates him, but not as enthusiastically as she did for Alyssa.

Alyssa turns and offers him a hand. He reluctantly shakes it, though he seems to relax. And then I notice the smile on Alyssa's face. It's not big and I know that there is no joy in it, but it amazes me that she can keep up her façade.

I'm proud of her. I knew that she would fight from the beginning, but I never knew how strong she was. _That's one hell of a daughter you've got there Gale. I'll keep her safe._

**XOXOXOX**

_Alyssa_

I offer Flynn my hand and flash him a smile. I know it's not big, but right now it's the best I can do. I feel sorry for the boy, because I know that his older brothers died in a mining accident a couple of years back. And now, he's walking to his own death. I can only imagine how heart broken his parents must be.

He takes my hand and we shake, and Fleur continues showing us off to the district like we're prize winning pets. Expect the district doesn't make a sound. It's been like this for the past few years, an eerie silence to say farewell to the tributes. No one places bet anymore, either, which only makes the reapings worse.

They play the anthem of Panem as Flynn and I stand there silently watching the crowd. By the end of it I begin to rock back and forth on my feet. Once the anthem has finished playing they march the two of us into the Justice Building. We're moved into separate rooms, me on the left and him on the right. They shut the door and for a few minutes I'm left alone with my thoughts.

After a while, I begin to wonder if they're actually letting people see us this year or if they've just decided to get us on the train as fast as possible. Fortunately, when the door opens, I'm met with a crushing hug from my dad instead of an angry peacekeeper.

Behind him are my brother and sister holding hands with my mum. I can tell the moment I spot her puffy red eyes that she's been crying.

My dad lets go, albeit cautiously. He looks me in the eye, and I can see the tears forming. I look away, afraid that if I cry then I'll never stop. "Dad…" I whisper, my voice breaking.

His arms wrap around me again, giving me the comfort I seek. "I wish I could stop this," he says through sobs. I've never seen my dad cry before so when I hear him acting so helpless and defeated I can't help but cry as well.

"There's nothing you could've done," I reply. The tears that run down my cheeks are slow and linger in certain spots, but I know that I'm not crying as much as my dad is.

"It's my fault," Katniss says from the door. I have no idea when she appeared, but I'm glad that she's here. I wipe my eyes and move away from my dad, unable to look at his crushed form.

"It's not your fault. None of you could stop this," I say. I clench my fists, digging my fingernails into skin. _Anything to make the pain go away._

I turn to my mum and the children bawling their eyes out either side of her. "This isn't goodbye," I tell them. "You hear me? I'm coming back; I've already made that promise. I'm not going to break it, not now and not ever. So when they announce the winner of this year's Hunger Games, you'll see my smiling face on the screen."

My mum hugs the two of them, kissing them both on the forehead before letting go of their hands and coming to stand in front of me. "Good luck," she whispers, kissing my forehead and hugging me tightly. When she eventually lets go, I turn to face my dad who's finally stopped crying.

"Remember everything I've taught you," he says and I give him a genuine smile. It reminds me of how he agreed to train me after years of me begging. At first, Katniss would teach me how to shoot a bow at random targets in her old house. But when I was caught coming home with a dead rabbit one day, I was taken by the peacekeepers and whipped ten times.

It was only after I was caught and whipped a second time that he agreed to teach me. He and Katniss both took turns in training me. And looking into his eyes now, I can tell he doesn't regret it.

"How could I dad? After all, I did learn from the best." I give him one last hug before the peacekeepers arrive to escort me to the train. I walk out of the room in front of the peacekeepers with my head held high. I don't glance back, because I know I'll burst into tears.

Katniss walks beside me, a hand on my shoulder in a comforting manor. I'm glad that she's a mentor. I know it must be horrible for her to live with the deaths of two tributes every year, but I admire her, mainly because she hasn't fallen to drink to drive away the pain.

But then I feel bad for the 14 year old boy who joins us on the train. Because right now, he has no one he can trust other than Katniss, and I feel that she'll be too busy trying to keep me alive. So I make myself a silent promise_. I'll keep you alive for as long as I can. I'll stop the others from killing you so that you can have a chance to live. _

I turn to Katniss and tug on her sleeve. She looks down at me as the doors to the train close, shutting us off from the rest of the world. "It's the three of us now, but I want you to concentrate on mentoring him." She looks at me, puzzled. "I mean, you've already taught me so many things, I'd feel bad if he died because he was left out in training…"

He both turn to look at Flynn, who's staring at me with curious green eyes. "You'd do that for me? Give me a chance even though it would mean risking your life?" I stare at him, contemplating his words.

"Of course, because we're both from district 12 and we need to stick together!" I place a hand on his head and ruffle his hair. Even though I know that this little act of friendship will be pointless when we reach the arena, I want him to know that I'll help him, even if he is the enemy.

It's a dangerous move, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

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><p><strong>Aww, Alyssa, you're too kind. And goodbye Gale, I'll try to bring your daughter back in one piece ;)<br>And we move onto the train, the place where all the epic stuff happens! Wait a minute, I should really start preparing for the opening ceremonies! Ah well, they can wait. :)**

**Happy Hunger Games guys!  
><strong>


	3. They Love to Watch us Fall

**And here, for all my awesome readers, is the 3rd chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 3: They Love to Watch us Fall<span>_

_Flynn_

At first, I think that I'm screwed because the female tribute from our district – Alice? I don't know – is one of the stronger tributes that District 12 has to offer. Looking at her now as she laughs and attempts to cheer me up helps strengthen her act. But then I remember the fact that she's willing to give me a chance and I come to a final conclusion. _She's insane!_

_What kind of tribute gives anyone a chance? I mean, sure the Careers work together for a little while, but they still ruthlessly turn on each other._ But even as I think this, I can't help but feel a bit of gratitude towards her.

I shake my head, getting rid of the thoughts. Because I still think that this is all just an act that she's putting on. The moment we get to the arena we're enemies. We both know it. Maybe she's doing it as a weird tactic to gain sponsors, not that District 12 tributes get sponsors anyway. All I know is that we're not friends. _Are we…?_

I turn to our mentor, Katniss Everdeen, and try to start a conversation just so I'll stop thinking about my fellow tribute. "So… Any tips?" I ask hesitantly. She looks down at me, grey eyes full of guilt and grief. _Wait, guilt? Why would she feel guilty?_

"Tips? Well, my old mentor's advice was to stay alive." She laughs a little, but it seems forced and bitter. There's an awkward silence for a little after she's stopped laughing, so me and the girl shoot each other a confused look.

"Anyway, that's in the past. Avoid the Careers, that's always a good place to start," she says. I nod, trying to avoid making a sarcastic remark in answer to her 'advice'.

"Also, if there's anything in the arena that you can't identify – berries and stuff – then don't touch it. We don't want either of you dying because you ate something poisonous." She motions with her hand for us to follow and leads us into the next room. She lists off some more tips, but I'm distracted by the feast that awaits us at the table.

I've stopped in my tracks, staring in awe at the mountain of food. Katniss turns around when she realises we've stopped following her. A smile tugs at her lips, but she just waves her hand at the table. "Go ahead, it's all yours. Just don't eat too much."

I race to one of the chairs, ignoring her last comment, and begin digging in. I pick up a piece of meat from an animal I don't recognise and take a small bite from it. The second the meat touches my tongue I'm overwhelmed, because to me it tastes like a piece of heaven. Each time my bites get bigger until I've hit bone.

I work my way around the table to try and get a bite of everything. It feels like the food just gets richer and richer as I go along. I'm about to take a bite out of another piece of meat, I look up when I hear chatter amongst the table.

"What's this?" The other tribute asks, holding up a large cup with steam coming from the top. Katniss just laughs.

"It's hot chocolate, Alyssa, and one of the only things about the Capitol I still like," she replies, taking one of the cups for herself. I place the meat on my plate and grab a cup for myself, just to see what the fuss is about. I'm about to drink it, when I'm interrupted by the sound of our escort entering the room.

"I'd watch what you're saying _Katniss_, especially when it comes to the Capitol." The two adults glare at each other, and I'm sure a shiver runs down my spine. The tension becomes so thick that I'm tempted to try and cut it with my knife.

"Bite me, _Fleur_. Let them hear what they want, they're just cowards who can't do anything to me." Katniss smirks as she watches Fleur turn red at the insult. I think that our mentor has won this little feud, until Fleur's next comment hits home.

"They might not be able to hurt _you_ Katniss, but they can hurt _your precious tributes_." My eyes widen and my heart stops. _She's kidding, right?_ I look across the table at Alyssa, who's staring at Fleur with a hint of fear her eyes. Katniss, however, stands up swiftly with so much force that her chair is sent flying backwards.

"Hate me all you want Fleur, but don't you _dare_ threaten these children. They have nothing to do with this," she hisses. The two peacekeepers by the door shift in their places, getting ready to restrain either one of the adults at the table. Fleur's unnerving smile just widens.

"It's not a threat Katniss, _it's the truth_. You and I both know that the girl will be lucky if she makes it off her starting panel." Fleur glances at Alyssa as she finishes her statement. I don't have time to look at the effect it's had on Alyssa though, because Katniss is making her way towards Fleur in a fit of rage.

She runs around Alyssa's side of the table but Fleur only stands and watches, completely unfazed by Katniss. One of the peacekeepers reaches Fleur before Katniss does and pulls her out of the way, sending Katniss charging into the other peacekeeper. _He's lucky that he was prepared for that_, I think as I get up and take a small step back and away from the fight.

The peacekeeper Katniss just tackled grabs her around the waist, pulling her away from a slightly scared but still composed Fleur. She's kicking and fighting back, refusing to let the comment slide. I glance at Alyssa, who's just sat quietly staring down at her food with a blank expression on her face.

Her eyes are hidden beneath her fringe, but I swear I see a tear roll down her cheek. Katniss starts shouting at Fleur, but the words never really reach my ears. I'm too busy worrying about Alyssa and how badly this will affect her. Her hands are clenched, shaking as they lie on the table. Whether it's out of anger or fear I can't tell.

I'm about to form her name, utter some words of comfort, but I pause when she begins to stand up. She walks away slowly, silently leaving the room and it's chaos behind. I'm tempted to go after her but I can't find the energy to make my legs move. Instead I look back at the little scene Katniss has caused.

Fleur looks at me, and then searches the empty room. When her eyes focus on mine again, I can see the sparkle of amusement in them. I curl my hands up into fists and feel the anger rising in me. My thoughts are filled with obscenities that I'm too afraid to say aloud.

"Well, I can safely say that this year has been _eventful_." She smiles, first at me and then at Katniss. It's when I realise that to her all this is just a game. A sick, twisted, game that formed the moment she and Katniss began to hate each other.

Katniss, now being restrained by both peacekeepers, looks about ready to tear Fleur apart, though she stays silent. I do the same. Fleur just laughs us off and walks out the door, leaving us one last message. "_You don't stand a chance_."

**XOXOXOX**

_Alyssa_

I try to walk to my designated room on the train, my calm demeanour slowly slipping away. All thoughts of the previous event have been wiped from my mind. I walk the corridors with a blank expression, my room seems miles away. I know for a fact that I'm shaking uncontrollably. Luckily, the peacekeepers leave me alone, ignoring me as I walk by. I'm thankful for that.

I don't know how long I wander around the train for; all I know is that in the end I'm sat leaning against the metal door to my room crying my eyes out. Because today's events have finally caught up with me and I'm on the verge of really breaking down.

I draw my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and hugging them. The tears continue to fall, though I do nothing to try and stop them. I'm too busy being hit in the face with a cold, harsh reality. A reality that Fleur has just confirmed; Snow wants me _dead_, wants _my family to suffer_, wants _Katniss to suffer_ and wants the entire of Panem to know that we can _never escape_. He's using me as an example because he knows that Gale made the bombs that destroyed a good portion of the Capitol. He knows that he can make it personal for the rebels, as well as teach Panem a lesson.

I choke on my tears as more gruesome thoughts fill my head. I try to push them away, but I have no energy left to make the effort. I've wasted it all on crying. So I sit there in an empty room for hours thinking of ways that Snow can have me killed in the arena. It can be slow and painful, or fast and, well, not as painful. I start to edge towards the 'slow and painful', because Katniss has told me how sadistic Snow can be so I know he'd want me to suffer.

I'm stopped mid-thought when I hear a soft knock at my door. The sound startles me and I instantly jump to my feet. I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to put on the bravest face I can, even though they can't see me through the metal door. "Go away," I say as loud as I can. It barely sounds like a whisper. "Go away," I repeat a little louder this time.

"No," is the short reply I receive, though I'm shocked by the owner of the voice. It's not Katniss, who I expected it to be, it's Flynn. "We need to talk about this," he says. I don't want to talk, I want to sit here and block out the world. I want to go home.

"No, we don't!" Is my reply. I'm hoping to sound a little angry, but I don't think he's convinced.

"Sure, because everything in the world revolves around _you_!" I'm taken aback by his comment, because the words actually sting. The two of us stay silent for so long that I think he might have left. _Good_, I think. _I can go back to thinking about how I'm going to die_. I run a hand through my hair, knowing that talking will be better then crying.

"I'm sorry," I say. There's a long pause, so long that I'm pretty sure he's gone. I open the door to check and see him standing in the corridor, green eyes filled with concern.

"Katniss was worried about you," he says quietly. I say nothing in reply, so he continues talking. "I decided to come and check on you. 'Cause ya know, we have to stick together right? It's not like I care or anything, it's just…" He struggles to find the right words. It makes him look young, too young to be in these dreaded games. It's one of the reasons I want us to work together.

"You don't have to explain yourself," I whisper. He stops to look at me, slightly confused. I just smile down at him before moving to sit on the bed. I perch on the edge, resisting the temptation to lie down and sleep. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of where to go. In the end he steps into the room, closes the door and opts for sitting on the floor opposite me.

"It's funny, seeing you like this…" I look at him questioningly. I mean, it's not like he's seen me before. He sees my quizzical gaze and decides to clarify. "Well, at the reaping when you walked up to the stage whilst your dad was breaking down you just looked unbreakable. But now, I see you like this and I don't know what to think."

I laugh a little at his examination of my behaviour. "The thing at the reaping was an act. I'm just good at hiding my emotions. You'd understand if you were a part of my family. Although, that's the first time anyone's made me cry this much." We both laugh at that.

"What Fleur said back there, she was out of line." I look at him, noticing his clenched jaw and fist. "She… I can't believe she'd say something like that. It's just – I don't -"

"It's not your fault Flynn. _She_ said it, not you. And anyway, it was aimed at both of us." He calms down a little, but his fists are still clenched. I sigh. "There's nothing we can do to change that. Snow wants me dead, so what. I'll just show him how we fight in District 12. Because, if I've learnt anything over the years, it's that we _never give up_."

"I guess you're right." Our eyes lock for a second, but he quickly looks away. I look him up and down, taking in his young form. When I see the slight blush creeping onto his face, I laugh a little. But then I realise I don't even know how old he is. He's definitely younger than me, but I can't tell his exact age.

"I know this is gonna sound stupid," I say slowly so I can grab his attention. "But, how old are you?" His green eyes widen, he obviously didn't expect me to ask such a question.

"It doesn't matter," he mutters under his breath. I know what he's thinking; he doesn't want us to get attached. I get up off the bed and stride over to his spot on the floor. He doesn't move, but he looks at me curiously. I collapse next to him, swinging my arm around him and pulling him closer.

"It matters to me," I tell him as I ruffle his hair with my free hand. He tries to swat it away, but is having difficulty doing so whilst in my headlock. Only when he gives up trying to resist do I let him go.

"Fine! I'm 13!" With that, he gets up and marches out of my room. I'm left in shock on my floor, wondering how many times his name has been put into the draw. I feel sorry for him, even more so then when we first met on the stage back in District 12, because I know the odds are definitely not in his favour.

The next person to enter my room is a peacekeeper. I laugh at the face he pulls when he finds me sitting on the floor, but he is quick to dismiss the fact. "We'll be at the Capitol by miday tomorrow. Get some rest and make sure you're ready before we get there." He lingers in the doorway for a few more seconds, probably wondering if I'm okay or not, and then walks away.

I get up and jump onto my bed. Somehow I manage to get comfy and relax, but I know it won't last long. I end up tossing and turning all night, unable to shake Fleur's unnerving statement. I get about 3 hours sleep before giving up; knowing that reaching the Capitol is going to suck royally. So for the rest of the night I lie awake on my bed trying to keep my thoughts focused on the family I left back home.

* * *

><p><strong>Things heat up on the train to Panem! It's a good job Gale's not there, otherwise Fleur would have had a pretty bad beating. But yeah, Fleur and Katniss absolutely hate each other, so Fleur always ends up picking on the tributes (mainly because Katniss actually scares her, so she wouldn't directly insult her). Looks like Fleur picked the wrong tribute to pick on, eh? And poor Alyssa, being bullied by the meanie escort from the Capitol. Good job little Flynn's here to cheer her up, even if she annoys the hell out of him.<strong>

**Anyways, before I ramble on even more, see ya next chapter and May the Odds be Ever in your Favour!**


	4. Crash and Burn

**I'm back guys! Not that I really went anywhere... Anyways, here is chapter 4, with more violence than the last one. And chariot rides. And opening ceremonies. And- well... I guess you get the point! :) Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 4: Crash and Burn<em>

_Katniss_

"Peeta! Prim! No!" I jolt up in my bed, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. It takes me a few minutes to recover from the initial shock, but even after I realise that it was just a nightmare it still manages to plague my thoughts. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. _Pull yourself together Katniss. It's just a dream, even if the memories are real. _

I sit in bed for a few more minutes before deciding that I'll never be able to get back to sleep after that unfortunate dream. So I get up slowly, trying to get a firm grasp on this reality in the hopes of forgetting my nightmare. Everything I do from that point on is slow and cautious, as if the world around me is fragile and could break any minute. Knowing my luck, it probably would.

After pacing around my room for a good hour, I realise that I never changed clothes last night. It occurs to me that I should probably change them now, but I'm too tired and stressed to care. Instead, I come to a stop in front of the mirror so I can attempt to fix my hair, which is all over the place. No doubt I was tossing and turning in my sleep, I conclude.

Eventually, I manage to put it into a braid. But, looking at my reflection in the mirror only brings back the horror I witnessed before the 75th Hunger Games began. It only helps to remind me of how they beat Cinna. I shake my head, desperately trying to get rid of the thought. I only manage to remind myself of the countless other deaths that occurred because of me.

Fellow tributes of the arena from both Games, all those rebels, even those from the Capitol. I clench my fists as the anger I feel rises. _What was all that for? We didn't win. We couldn't. So why did we even try?_ I'm trying to calm myself down, trying to breathe through the rage I'm feeling. But I can't stop my train of thought and as I go on it only makes me angrier.

_Rue, Thresh, Foxface, Mags, Wiress; even Cato and Clove. Or poor Finnick, who left his son and wife behind. Even Peeta. No!_ I think, unconsciously punching the mirror in a fit of rage. Its shatters immediately at my touch, the broken glass forced in every direction. The cuts that appear on my hand start to bleed almost instantly and I can feel the stabbing pain from each and every one of them. But I ignore that pain, because it's nothing compared to how that last thought made me feel.

I draw my hand back, some smaller pieces of glass still sticking out of my skin. I look at my cracked reflection in the mirror. It's ironic really, and I almost laugh. Because that's what I am. _Broken_. I pick out the small pieces of glass in my hand, letting them fall to floor with an almost inaudible clink.

I'm aware of the tears that start to fall down my cheeks, so I quickly wipe them away. I manage to hold back the rest of them, but the pain is still clear in my eyes. Still fresh in my mind.

At that moment, a peacekeeper hastily walks into my room. He seems confused and I realise he must have heard the glass shattering. He looks at me, then the broken mirror and then down at my bloody hand. I can feel the warm scarlet liquid running down my fingers, oozing from every cut. After being stunned for a moment, he quickly comes back to reality and makes a move to try and help me. I jerk away, refusing to let him touch me.

"I don't need your help," I spit. Though my hand seems to be in protest.

"Let me help. You're bleeding pretty badly, and I-"

"You what? You've survived _two_ Hunger Games?" I shout at him. I know it's not his fault, but I really need to vent my pain and anger. "You've survived a rebellion that became an _all out war_? You watched as your _friends_ were _tortured_. As your _family were tortured!" _My voice breaks and a sob escapes my lips. I can feel the tears burning at my eyes again, but I refuse to cry in front of this Capitol hound.

He flinches at my words, taking a few steps back. "I'm sorry to hear," he says. I ignore him.

"I had friends that were killed because of _me_. I have families that look at me with disgust because _I_ wasn't able to bring their _children_ back! Do you know how that feels? To have the _weight of the world_ on your shoulders because no one else is _brave_ enough to bare the _burden! Do you?_" My fists clench and I start to shake uncontrollably. The action only manages to make the stinging in my right hand much worse.

"No, I don't know how it feels. But if you're so _arrogant_ that you think you don't need medical attention for the cuts on your hand then fine, I won't help you out. I tried to be nice. You turned my offer down with a fit of rage. So whatever," He turns to walk away and I'm enrage by his words.

I lunge for him, but before I get the chance to hit him I'm met by another peacekeeper. This one is taller and older than the other, and he certainly looks stronger. He must've heard me shouting. He grabs me by the waist, stopping me from attacking his colleague and holds me until I calm down. It takes a while, but eventually I lose the energy to fight.

"Now then," the taller peacekeeper starts, looking at his friend to make sure he's oaky. With a short nod, he continues. "Let's go get this hand looked at."

I'm marched out of my room and down to the medical room on the train. I'm forced to stay there for the rest of the trip, apparently for my 'own safety'. So they fix up my hand and I sit in boredom for hours, trying to get the horrifying thoughts out of my mind.

**XOXOXOX**

_Alyssa_

I wake, surprised that I actually managed to get any sleep last night. Of course, my peace is short lived, because mere seconds after I've woken up Fleur decides to enter my room.

"Oh, so you _are_ awake? I thought that you'd still be sleeping away the day like last years tributes." She grins tauntingly. I don't rise to her challenge; instead I ignore her and start getting ready for the day. This annoys her. "But it seems you have more manors than the rest of those District 12 _savages_."

I freeze on the spot, instantly tensing up. "Savages?" I say through gritted teeth. I hear her high pitch giggle from behind me, which only infuriates me further. "You know, I'd watch it if I were you," I say as I turn to glare at her. "Savages can be vicious, and I'm sure you wouldn't want us to _bite_."

I swear I see her flinch, but she recovers quickly. Her smile widens, and suddenly I want to get out of the room as fast as I can. "I meant what I said yesterday, you know. Snow wants you dead, Miss Hawthorne. And he'll be pleased to watch Katniss and your _precious father_ suffer. As will the rest of the Capitol."

I jump at her, pulling my fist back before launching it at her face. It collides with bone and skin with a loud crack, and I'm not quite sure whose bones are breaking. She's knocked back through the doorway and into the corridor. I follow her, glaring her down like a wild animal. I'm about to strike again when she laughs at me, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.

"The more you _fight_ the more _fun_ you make it. You know that, don't you _little Hawthorne?_" I scream, lunging for her again. I'm grabbed by a swarm of peacekeepers, but I make it difficult for them to hold me still. I kick, punch and grapple with the grown men and women who are all taller ad stronger than me, driven by pure rage.

I look at her, glimpse the bruise forming around the nasty cut on her cheek. As the peacekeepers continue to restrain me and I realise I wont be able to fight for much longer, I decide glare daggers at the escort. Though I'm caught off guard by her next sentence, and it seems the peacekeepers are as well.

"Let her go, let her have her fun. Because let's face it, _little Hawthorne_ won't be alive for much longer." She turns and leaves in the direction of what I assume to be her room.

The peacekeepers and I stand there in shock, until one of them finally decides to let me go. The others warily follow suit, and when they realise that I'm not going to chase after the annoying escort, they return to their posts.

I'm still angry and extremely offended. But somehow, I don't think it's because of the death threats. It's the way she says '_Little Hawthorne_' that makes my skin crawl. It's her new nickname for me, her new taunt and tease. And for some reason, it irritates me more than she does.

I finish getting ready, unable to cool down. So I decide to get out of my claustrophobic room and get some food. I see Flynn already sat down at the table, eating a bowl of soup with a small, satisfied smile present on his face. He glances up at me, gives me a curt nod and returns to his soup.

"What's got you all cheery?" I ask, irked by his happy mood. He stops slurping up the soup and gives me a mischievous look. "_What_?" I ask again. I try to refrain from glaring at him, but I still narrow my eyes slightly.

"Did you not see Fleur? That bruise on her cheek is _huge_! I want to give the person who socked her a massive hug." I chuckle at his reply. I sit down and gather some food onto my plate before turning my attention back to Flynn.

"Oh, I saw it alright. In fact, I was there when it happened." He looks up at me, wide eyed and curious. I know he wants me to continue. "I was the one who hit her." I show him my right hand, which is slightly bruised around the knuckles. There are also a few cuts, but they're not serious or bleeding.

"Whoa…" He examines the damage, his smile growing wider. And somehow, his smile helps to ease the anger I feel. So from then on, and for the rest of the trip we talk about how it felt to punch the whiney bitch we have as a district escort, all the while wondering where our mentor could be.

**XOXOXOX**

"Listen to everything that your stylists have to say. No buts, even if they are pompous Capitol brats. Just go with the flow and hope for the best." Katniss says to us just as Fleur decides to join our little group. Katniss looks at the bruise on Fleur's cheek, slightly confused, and then looks at Flynn and I for some form of information.

"It wasn't me," Flynn says swiftly. This causes Katniss to try – and fail – to give me a serious 'you're in trouble' look. In the end, we both start laughing.

"Yes, yes. There's a bruise on my cheek. Can we get on with life, or what little you have left of it." the last comment stings, but I brush it off. I can't afford to be violent now that we're in the Capitol.

We're ushered into different rooms, ready to meet our prep team and stylist. At the sight of them, I sigh heavily. _Great_, I think as I look at the multicoloured wig one of them is wearing. _This is going to be fantastic._

**XOXOXOX**

A few hours later, after we've been cleaned up and prepped, Flynn and I stand before our chariot, staring at each other and our matching outfits. We're in black outfits that are boring, plain and void of patterns. It's practically the same as what last year's tributes wore, except with the addition of a midnight black cape blowing in the wind.

"What do you think the capes are for," Flynn asks, tugging at his collar. He's trying to get some air, because not only is the collar of the costume too tight, but the outfit all together is boiling. I can barely breathe myself.

"I dunno, hopefully they'll strangle us before we have to ride through a crowd of Capitol idiots." I fake choke myself, which makes Flynn laugh. I look around, trying to find Katniss or our stylists. When I don't spot them, I try to look for Fleur but to no avail. _Weird…_

"Hey look," Flynn says as he turns to point at the other tributes that begin to mount their chariots. "I guess we're starting."

"Wait," I say, holding out my hand to stop him from turning. I can make out a faint pattern on the cape; a really dark grey, thin line that almost blends in with the black. It makes a symbol or a sign, but I don't have the time to think on it any longer. We're being forced onto our chariot by a couple of peacekeepers. They're grinning at us and all though I can't tell why, I'm certain it's not a good thing.

I can feel my stomach turning and suddenly I'm dreading the opening ceremonies more than I should be. As we go through the gates, a giant crowd greets us. As we continue onward, I think that there might be a slight chance that nothing bad will happen, but I still can't shake the uneasy feeling.

_Nothing adds up_, I think. Katniss is nowhere to be seen, neither are our stylists. Even Fleur isn't here to give us a death threat. _What the hell is going on?_ I turn my attention to the big screen as it skims the cheering crowd. Though they're not cheering for us. I decide that I should be a good sport anyway and give the crowd a little wave. I nudge Flynn and he starts to join in.

Then they slowly show each of the tributes on the big screens, their various costumes catching the eyes of the crowd. Half of us are smiling and waving at the crowd, the other half is still. We wait eager to see ourselves on the big screen. Though confusion slices through the crowd when it does.

The camera is focused on us and our chariot, but it doesn't show our faces. Instead it shows our midnight black capes billowing in the wind. I can see the faint pattern imbedded into the cape, but I still can't make it out. Even the crowd seems confused. Flynn turns to look at me, and just as I'm about to do the same I see the first spark.

It's so small I think I'm imagining it, because nothing else has happened. But then it sparks up again, larger and more aggressive. I can feel the heat of the flame before it shows up on the big screen. _Oh god_, I think. _They're setting our capes on fire_.

I realise soon that it isn't a real flame, just an artificial one, but I'm still considering tearing the cape off. The crowd look mesmerised and everyone seems to be staring at either us or the screen. We look on in awe, until I recognise the symbol appearing on our capes and place a hand to over my mouth in shock.

Seconds later, the flame reaches the end of its raging cycle, engulfing the faint pattern that used to be there and revealing the fiery design on our backs. It's the Mockingjay. But it isn't a sign of rebellion; it's a symbol of defeat. And now, the entire Capitol hates us.

The once calm crowd becomes an uncontrollable uproar, yet I ignore the shouts and curses flung our way. I can't tear my eyes away from the screen. _They did this on purpose,_ I think as I grit my teeth in anger. _Snow planned this; he wants the world to hate District 12. He wants us dead. He wants my dad and Katniss to suffer._

I can feel the glares and hatred from the citizens. But I no longer care. I'm lost in my own thoughts. It takes me a moment to realise the screens have gone black and the chariots have stopped, but I can still see the Mockingjay symbol burning brightly on the empty screen.

I jump off the chariot and rip off my cape as fast as I can. I'm tempted to throw it on the floor and stomp on it, but and idea pops into my head. Instead I hold the cape up high, the flickering fire still burning, and shout out to the Capitol.

"Hate us all you like! Watch us fight for our lives in the games! It won't matter! Because we don't need _sponsors like you_! Because we're not _cowards_ and we won't run from this fight. You think you're tearing us apart? Well think again, because all you're doing is pushing us together!" Only when I've finished do I throw my cape to the ground and storm off in the direction of the elevators. _So much for keeping calm._

I know I'll pay for that later, be it during the games or before. _I don't care what scum like them think. I've been taught how to fight and kill. I've been taught to survive. And if Snow thinks that I'll lie down like a dog and take it, he's sadly mistaken. _

I've left a partially silent crowd behind me, the whispers of the crowd to quiet to hear. _It's me they're talking about, my defiant speech just then. They're passing it through the crowd all the way to the back just to inform those who didn't hear. _

I enter the elevator as soon as the doors open, Katniss – who seems to have reappeared – and Flynn a few seconds behind. Flynn seems terrified, and I feel guilty about making things worse, but my anger outweighs the guilt. Katniss doesn't look at me, but I can feel the anger radiating from her too. _This is practically a punch in the face for her. After all, she was the Mockingjay._

Our elevator is silent, but we don't need words to describe our feelings. We all understand that we're at a disadvantage now, and we can only hope that we're paired with a decent district. And after my disdainful display, I highly doubt that will happen.

* * *

><p><strong>So, has little Haw- I mean Alyssa really messed up this time? Or does Snow feel like screwing with their minds a little? Probably, 'cause Snow's a douche. Either way, it ain't looking pretty for our District 12 tributes this year. Also, Fleur finally gets what she deserves. And for those of you out there who feel that Katniss should've been the one to hit her, don't worry. She'll have her time to shine ;)<br>Also, a mention of Peeta! Huzzah! Don't worry guys, more information on our lovable boy with the bread will be revealed soon. For now, sit hugging any Peeta related object you have. It'll probably calm you down. Maybe... Hopefully...**

**See ya next chapter, and may the odds be ever in your favour!  
><strong>


	5. One Step Closer to the Edge

**I'm back guys! Sorry for the long wait... Anyways, the movie was awesome! I went and watched it with a bunch of my friends at an advanced showing and came back with two more posters to add to my collection! ****Now, onto naming the tributes that my friends own (Don't kill me if the names aren't spelt right guys!)**  
><strong>District 7's male tribute 'Dara' belongs to ATescoLifeWithATwinAndMonkey<strong>  
><strong>District 2's female tribute 'Aoife' belongs to lexi-myrnin<br>District 13's female tribute 'Ailsa' belongs to I'm-the-bang-to-your-fang  
>And finally, District 11's female tribute 'Ruxandra' belongs to <strong>**Avidreader24601  
><strong>**Now then, onto the chapter! Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter 5: One Step Closer to the Edge<em>

_Flynn_

"Why would you do that? What _possessed_ you to _taunt the Capitol_? Were you even _thinking_ at the time?" I scream at Alyssa. My hands are flying all over the place, trying to gesture the seriousness of our situation. Katniss stands next to me, arms folded with a disappointed look in her eyes. Alyssa just stands there and takes the brunt of our force, which only further irritates me.

"We had a _chance_ this year! We could've been paired up with anyone! But no, after your little display we'll probably be paired with one of the worst Districts out there!" Katniss places a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. My muscles tense under the touch but I manage to let out a long, deep breath.

"And even if you were paired off with a less… _capable_ District, at least they would've been willing to work with you." I look at our mentor, who is still managing to keep her cool, and frown. She gives me a reassuring smile. Obviously, she's dealt with Alyssa's bad attitude before considering how close their families are.

"What would be the point?" Alyssa speaks up. When we turn to her, we notice the stark look in her eyes. There's no anger, no fear, no emotion at all. "It's not like we'd win anyway. _Snow wouldn't let us_. So, why not lose in style?" She sends us a lopsided grin, which chills me to the core.

"Lose in style? That doesn't sound like the girl I know," Katniss says with narrowed eyes. Fleur, who sits quietly at the mahogany table, is unable to suppress one of her annoying, high pitched giggles. Katniss turns to glare at her. "You were never one to lose," she says without looking away from Fleur.

"Like you?" Alyssa replies. Katniss sharply turns to her, slight confusion in her features. I start to get the feeling that I should leave the room, but I don't think it would be a good idea to leave Fleur with them. Instead I walk to where Fleur is sitting, almost completely ignored by Katniss and Alyssa. "I was wondering if you could show me around…" I say.

Fleur looks at me briefly, before her eyes flicker back to the other two. "And miss the show?" She asks innocently. I only sigh and place a hand on my forehead.

"It won't be much of a good show if you get another black eye and ruin your… err… _fabulous face_." It's not much, but Fleur obviously cares more about her beauty than an angry Katniss.

"Is it really that bad?" She asks, reaching for a mirror concealed in one of her jacket pockets. I wait while she checks, glancing at Katniss who sends me a small thank you. Alyssa is still glaring when we stand up to leave.

"Have fun with Fleur and her fabulous face, Flynn!" I hear Alyssa shout on the way out, but I'm preoccupied by Fleur and her constant bickering. She drags me around, complaining about District 12 and Katniss for a good half an hour. When we make it back to the room, she's met by a fist; one that belongs to a very angry Katniss Everdeen.

**XOXOXOX**

_Alyssa_

"Have fun with Fleur and her fabulous face, Flynn!" Although the comment is laced with bitterness, I really am grateful that Flynn decided to leave and take Fleur with him. Katniss seems pleased too, but I don't really care.

"Like me?" She asks. She's curious about my answer, confused about how I feel. I want to scream, but I force myself to stay calm.

"Yes. Like you. Losing just wasn't your style, was it? Not until Snow broke you, anyway," I say. Each word hits hard. Especially those in my last comment. I can see the anger flare in her eyes.

"You wouldn't understand. I'm surprised Gale even told you about that. And I didn't give up, _not once_!" She replies. I ball my hands up into fists, prepared to strike.

"Maybe not when Prim wanted you to win the games!" She winces. Between the two of them, Katniss and my father practically told me everything. That, or I'd hear them arguing about it, see the fights between them, when I was younger. "But what about the Quarter Quell, when you said you'd die to save Peeta? Isn't that the same as losing?"

"Under _my own_ terms, not the Capitols!" She shouts at me. Her rage is like a fire, uncontrollable and fierce. But I don't back down.

"Your own terms? To me that just sounds like another way of justifying your defeat!" I point out. The fury begins to rise in me too.

"I'd rather _justify_ it then _admit_ it completely!" We stare at each other, neither one of us rising to the challenge yet unwilling to back down. Until I make my next comment, that is.

"And look how well that turned out for you and _Lover Boy_." She slaps me, the movement so swift and sharp that I'm stunned into silence. She grabs me by the collar and flings me up against the wall. Her face is inches from mine when she hisses to me.

"How dare you mention him? _How dare_ you even bring him into this? Especially when he can't defend himself!" The sheer animosity in her voice shakes me. It's a tone I haven't heard her taken in a long time.

Somehow I manage to find my voice again, but it's laced with the same animosity as Katniss'. "Of course he can't defend himself, _he's dead_!" Her grip on my collar loosens, but neither of us moves an inch.

I bite back my fear and speak again. "He's dead because you couldn't admit that you were _wrong_, that Snow had _won_ and the game was _finished_. He died because he _refused_ to admit defeat even after you'd _lost_. Because you were _arrogant_ and thought you still had a chance. Both of you were willing to die for each other and ended up with _one of you dead and the other broken_!"

My head swung to the side, cheek stinging. I could taste the coppery liquid, the metallic taste burning my mouth. I spit the blood out and onto the floor before looking back at Katniss. She raises her arm, ready to strike again if necessary. There's a small silence, before she speaks in a quiet voice.

"Death is better than losing…"

"You're delusional," I mutter. Another punch. "What difference does it make?" My voice is raised to a shout. "You keep living these lies, _pretending_ that everyone's safe and sound when they really aren't. Can you even tell the difference between your _lies and reality_?" She hesitates mid punch, arm shaking. I sigh, wiping the blood from my cut cheek.

I'm lowered to the floor, but she refuses to let go of my collar. We stand there for a while, contemplating the next move, but neither of us has the energy left for another verbal fight. Instead, she shoves me against the wall and walks towards the door and manages one final comment before it swings open. "Don't you dare mention Peeta again."

With that, she punches a surprised Fleur in the face – an act long over due – and storms off to her room. Fleur bursts out wailing, flailing her arms and shouting curses at Katniss' retreating back because she'll definitely have another black eye by tomorrow. But this doesn't make me laugh. Because I can't stop thinking about what I've just said to Katniss and how much of an inconsiderate bitch I've actually been.

**XOXOXOX**

After a couple of hours, Katniss returns. She frowns when she sees the bruises on my face. I didn't bother to go and get it checked out, I've had worse done to me. I instantly remember my various whippings in District 12, shudder and turn my attention to the TV screen to take my mind off the distant memory. Since we haven't watched the reapings yet, Flynn decides we might as well get to know the competition.

The tributes from District 1 are eager to volunteer as always, though not quite as enthusiastic as they usually are. A quick glimpse around their square tells me that none of them struggle for a daily meal. They're most likely trained, the Career pack normally are. The girl is taller than me and much prettier, but the only thing that strikes me as opponent worthy is her District. The boy is a head taller than the girl, with more muscle to back up the fearsome threat of his height.

District 2's tributes aren't much different from last year. But it's the same as it was for District 1, not as many of them want to volunteer this year. _Must be the Quarter Quell_, I think. _But that's never stopped them before_.

The girl definitely appears stronger than the one from District 1, despite her smaller size. I take note of her name, Aoife, and see the thin, reddish scar line across her cheek. The boy, who's name is Lycus, tall and muscular, with sharp facial features, has a tattoo of a wolf bearing it's fangs on his arm. Lycus and Aoife, the pair I have to look out for. No doubt they'd tried to kill they're partners straight away if they weren't a Career or half decent at fighting.

I skip over District 3, because they don't strike me as fierce. Even though I'm not planning on underestimating anyone in the arena, I can't help but stereotype the poor electricians.

District 4 comes next. A girl called Lorie Swift is picked. She seems to be about 15 years old, with tanned skin (probably from fishing or swimming in the sun all day) and stunning, curly blonde hair. She walks with her head held high, but she's trying to look for someone among the crowd.

Their escort walks over to the boy's bowl, picks out a name and reads it out to District 4. The guy called doesn't even get a chance to move, because there's already a volunteer at the back of the square. He's pushing his way through the crowd to the peacekeepers and gladly lets them take him to the stage. He sends a smile over to the girl, tells the escort his name and she informs them of their new tribute. His name is Caelius Swift, and I realise the reason he was so quick to volunteer.

After that, the rest of the reapings are a blur. A few names stick out, like the male from District 7 called Dara, who has a crazy look about him. Or the girl from District 11, Ruxandra, who towers over most of the other tributes despite the harsh environment of her District. There's also the girl from 13, Ailsa, who looks more than capable to wield a weapon. I remember what my dad and Katniss always told me before the reapings. "If you're ever picked, watch out for 13. They can be more deadly than the Career pack combined."

Afterwards, there's a short interview between Julius Flickerman and the newly appointed Head Gamemaker. We watch on, hoping for some hints on the horrors that will undoubtedly await us in the arena.

"The first Quarter Quell since the rebellion will definitely show us what our newest Gamemaker is made of; I'm guessing we're in for a fabulous treat, right Talon Fairbain?" Julius asks. His midnight blue hair is cut short this year, spiked back like a hedgehog. His suit is a shimmery silver, the lights dancing off the material with each slight movement. It's almost mesmerising.

"Well, we intend to make it better then the last three. Though, you know I can't reveal too many details." Replies Talon. His black hair is spiked in a similar fashion to Julius' but with red tinting the tips. He's young – younger then most Gamemakers – and I wonder what he did to be appointed Head Gamemaker at such an age.

"Of course, Gamemakers are always a secretive bunch." He laughs and the audience laughs with him. After their laughing has died down, the two continue. "So, who do you have your eyes on this year? Who should we be routing for?" Julius leans in closer and the entire audience is silent in anticipation.

"Definitely the tributes from District 2. As always, they look ready for the fight and the boy from 4 looks like he stands a chance too. Then again, most of the Careers stand a chance." This earns the Gamemaker a laugh from the audience.

"What about the other Districts. Say, _District 12_?" Gasps and whispers resonate throughout the audience. Talon tugs at the collar of his shirt. After a few seconds without a reply, Julius pushes on. "The girl looks feisty…" He bites his lip and knows not to step across the very thin line that could lead their interview south. I glance at Katniss, but I can't read her expression.

"Yes, she does have a certain… _fire_ about her. But she doesn't seem likeable; I know I wouldn't bet on her. It's not likely we'll have another _miner_ win." I can tell he's uncomfortable with the subject by the way he constantly shifts in his seat.

I turn to Katniss, Flynn and – to a lesser extent – Fleur. "I'm totally likeably, right?" Fleur chokes on her drink; Flynn scratches his head and looks away. Katniss is the only one who actually replies.

"_Likeable_ isn't the word I'd use…" I'm about to ask her what word she would use to describe me, but by that time the interview has started again.

"Yes, it's highly unlikely. But let's move on from the tributes and onto the actual Quarter Quell. Can you tell us more about this year's _twist_?" Julius says.

"Well, the tributes will be paired up. One boy, one girl. It's that simple. It'll make it easier to survive out in the arena, you wont have to be on constant guard because there will be two of you." Julius nods his head and looks about ready to ask another question, but the buzzer sounds.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you Talon. Give it up, Citizens of the Capitol and Panem, for our new Head Gamemaker!" The crowd roars with cheers and the screen fades to black.

Flynn is the first to speak up out of the four of us. "Well, at least we'll get some sleep in the arena this year."

"_If_ you make it off the panel," Fleur says, reminding us of our _tragic _fate.

"_That_," Katniss shoot Fleur a sharp look before turning to Flynn. "And the fact that your partner could _betray_ you at any point in the game." Flynn just looks down and starts fidgeting in his seat.

"Oh," he mutters softly.

"Plus, two people are easier to find then one. If one of them is killed and the cannon sounds, it could draw others to their location," I say.

"But doesn't that mean people will be less likely to kill their partners if it risks exposure? It also leaves them more vulnerable to the wildlife in the arena as well as the tributes." He retorts. I have to hand it to him – he may not have brawn, but he certainly has the brains to make up for it.

"Still, you'll have to stay vigilant. Some of the other tributes might not have figured this out." Katniss says.

"Or they'll think that they have a better chance of winning on their own." I'm reminded of what they did to Katniss and Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games. I never actually watched it on TV, but I've been told stories. "It also gets rid of any attachments that may form."

Katniss eyes widen for a moment, before they narrow at the memory of her and Peeta in their first games that I'm certain she's having. "Good point Alyssa. No doubt they'll make you kill your partner if you're the last two tributes left."

"Well," Fleur says, interrupting our conversation. "Once you've finished your little strategy meeting, make sure you hurry along to bed. It's a going to be a big, big day tomorrow and if any of you are late I'll drag you down to the training center myself."

She walks out of the room and the three of us look at each other. A few seconds later we burst out laughing. "Guess she's right. Wouldn't want you to be late when they pick your partners now, would we?" Katniss says. With that, we're ushered into our rooms by Katniss. I collapse on the bed and wrap myself up in the covers, wishing deep down that I end up with a decent partner in the arena.

**More fighting! It's like we're already in the arena xD Hopefully we'll manage to make it to the training center next chapter without any fights. Until then, Happy Hunger Games!**

**(P.S. That is mahogany!)**


End file.
